What Went Wrong?
by Silveretta
Summary: Hermione's life ain't too great. Well, it won't be anyway. PG-13 for some angsty stuff later on. RR, you know you want to...


Hello one and all! It's just me again. I know, I know, I have about 3 stories on the go now, but I had this idea and just had to write it down! I showed it to my friend **l88er-az**, and got a positive feedback so, here it is! Could get a bit angsty later, just a warning.... but for now, bit of humour and that's about it.

**What Went Wrong?**

**Chapter 1- First Impressions**

Once again, the summer holidays had drawn to a close. A sixteen-year old girl of average height and build stepped onto Platform 9 ¾, accompanied by a cat in a wicker basket and a large trunk. During the holidays, the sun had picked out highlights in her otherwise brown hair, which still could not be persuaded to lie flat on her head. Hermione smiled happily. It was good to be back, it all felt so right. The smell of the smoke which the Hogwarts Express emitted, the sound of schoolmates swapping stories of the summer and her two best friends, standing with their backs turned, deep in conversation. She walked over and tapped Harry on his shoulder. He turned round, closely followed by Ron. She briefly took in each of their appearances. Harry was no longer the skinny boy of eleven that she had met six years ago; he now filled his uniform better, and had grown a few inches taller, which put him at about 5'10'', three inches taller than Hermione herself. The glasses remained, forever perched on the bridge of is nose. However, she was glad to see that he had changed the frames; they were smaller and no longer drowned out his face. As for Ron, he had stayed as tall as ever, easily reaching 6'. His nose was peppered with freckles which stood out against his otherwise pale skin. The characteristic shock of red hair that adorned each of the Weasley clan still stood away from his head. One could be forgiven for mistaking him for somebody older; his face had that sort of maturity to it. His eyes had deepened to a darker shade of blue and contrasted with his hair, but in a good way.

            "Oh, hi Hermione! Good summer?" asked Harry amiably enough. Odd, she wasn't welcome with the usual hug. Oh well, after what happened the year before with Cho, it was probably just as well; she'd probably get jealous again.

            "It was great! We went to France again, it was wonderful; we visited Rouen, you know, where Joan of Arc was burned?" she said, then, seeing the look of confusion on their faces at the mention of Joan of Arc "She was a famous muggle who- oh, never mind! How about the two of you?"

"Good thanks. Harry was round at mine for most of the summer. We went to see the Cannons play Wimbourne Wasps; they lost but it was a great match!" Ron enthused.

"They lost 1050 to 30" Harry whispered "and the Wasps' seeker caught the snitch within an hour."

Hermione giggled behind her hand, same old Ron alright. A whistle signalled the impatience of the Hogwarts Express, and the trio hurried to find seats.

Luckily they weren't split up for half of the journey, as although the prefects had their own compartment, Hermione and Ron weren't required to sit there. They made their way towards the back of the train until they found a relatively empty compartment. There were two other occupants; a boy of roughly sixteen who was reading in a corner. He had raven black hair, with a slight tinge of copper to it when the sun caught it. His eyes were not visible, as they were turned down towards the book. He bore a slight resemblance to someone, but Hermione couldn't quite place it. She turned her attention to the older man. He looked to be in his late twenties or early thirties, it was hard to tell. Ah, he was probably the new DADA teacher. Pity. She had been hoping that Lupin would return.  This man was also reading, she could just read the title. It looked like 'Hexes for the Perplexed'. He turned the page and gave a smirk. Hmm, perhaps he was one to watch out for in classes. He was not dissimilar to the boy in some respects. His hair was also black, but a pure pitch colour. Just black. His face had a European quality to it- slightly tanned- whereas the boy's was very pale. The way he sat suggested an air of elegance about him. The black brows furrowed, and then relaxed into a small chuckle, as if at some private joke.

The three of them took a seat near to the door, fairly far away from the other inhabitants. Hermione looked around before saying in a furtive whisper

            "Don't look no, but I think that our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher is over there." She indicated the seats behind them with a slight inclination of her head.

Immediately, Harry and Ron both knelt on their seats and turned around to get a better look at their potential teacher.

            "You know, when I said 'don't look now' I wasn't talking to myself." She said good-naturedly as the boys flopped down onto their seats once more. 

            "Hermione, I think he's a bit young to be teaching us. He looks as if he's about our age." Said Ron, with a troubled look on his face.

*Oh dear God* 

"Ron, look again."

"But you just said 'don't look…'"

"I know, but just do it!"

He turned around once more, then sat down

"There are two people in here, bar the three of us."

"Yes."

"And they're not both the new teacher."

"No."

"The one reading the book about hexes is the new teacher?"

"Yes!"

"So who's the other one?"

"What?"

"Who's the other one that's sitting in here?"

.z

"I'm afraid I don't know; my telepathic skills aren't working too well today" she replied sarcastically.

Suddenly, there was a small chuckle from behind them. It sounded quite similar to the one which had emanated from the supposed new teacher when he had found an amusing hex in his book. Had she made him laugh? Or was it just another hex which he was planning on inflicting on some poor soul? She looked up to see him looking directly at her. Oh Merlin. She felt herself blush, and then ducked down as quickly as possible. 

"Hermione? Why is your face so red?" asked Harry in an overly-loud voice. 

"Harry! Shut up!" she hissed. If he was their new teacher, she didn't know how she would be able to face him in class. 

Just then, the witch with the food trolley entered and enquired if they wanted anything; which provided an ample diversion from Hermione and her beetroot-red face. Harry and Ron selected some Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, Drooble's best blowing gum and licorice wands; whereas Hermione opted for a pumpkin pasty. The three of them fell silent as they ate their way through the food. After a while, this silence was broken by Harry's exclamation of

"Urgh! That was foul!" which he followed up by gagging.

One could only assume that he had bitten the corner off of a rather unsavoury Every Flavour Bean. 

"What flavour did you get mate?" Ron asked

"I think it was, blech, cat-food!"

"Well, give the rest to Crookshanks then" Ron suggested, leaning over to unfasten Crookshanks's basket "here, kitty, kitty…."

"Ron! Don't let him out, he'll run amuck everywhere!"

But it was too late. Crookshanks shot out of his basket, a flurry of orange hair. He perched on the back of Harry's seat for a moment, before springing straight across to the seat where the would-be-teacher was silting; and by the sounds of the surprised shouts that could be heard right onto the man's lap. Wait a minute. Hadn't he been reading a book on hexes?  

"Don't hex him sir!" she cried, in something quite close to anguish, rushing round to retrieve the offending cat. When she reached the mystery man, he was wearing a look of sheer surprise rather than one of anger. 

"Oh. I'm so sorry sir! " she said, desperately trying to unhook the cat from the man's robes. 

"Quite alright, a red selk isn't he?" the man replied "Although not exactly a prime specimen" here he indicated the cat's bowlegs and rather squashed-in face. 

"Um, yes sir, he is." She mutt erred, embarrassed beyond belief "You know about cats?"  

"I do try, although I must admit that my forte is dragons" 

Her eyebrows must have risen in the general direction of her hairline, as he then elaborated 

"I feel it somewhat necessary to acquaint myself with some of those creatures which I shall be teaching my students to defend themselves against." 

* So he WAS the new DADA teacher *

He was either some kind of mind reader, or just damn good at interpreting expressions. 

"Professor Alonzo Ferucci, at your service." He said the word 'professor' in an almost mocking tone. "And you are, from what I have interpreted from your friends over there, are Hermione."

"Yes sir, I am. Hermione Granger."

"Well miss Granger, I am sure that I shall see you soon. But until we meet again, adieu."

She took this as a signal to leave, and, Crookshanks bundled up in her arms, walked back to her seat. She pushed the cat into the basket as best she could, all the while thinking about professor Ferucci. Ferucci. It sounded Italian, perhaps that had been the hint of an accent she had heard in his voice. Well, that was one of two people identified; the boy was still a mystery. Where had she seen that face before? Wait. No, it couldn't be.

A/N~I know it's a cheesy cliffy, but it was the best way to end it really. Please review; I'm not sure whether to continue.


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